The Phantom's Most Lovely Rival
by thedreamerbehindthemask
Summary: erik and oc When young Lillian Farrow travels with her mother, the new ballet instuctor, to the Opera Populair, she is alone due to her rather odd intrest in writing.Yet she will meet a most curious fellow author and
1. Lily's Diary

The Phantom's Most Lovely Rival

Ch 1

Disclaimer: Do I really have to say this… I don't own the phantom of the opera … there

A/N Phantom Fans Unite! Boy did that sound geeky! Read on…please

Ch1

Arriving in Paris

June 15, 1781

My name is Lillian Farrow and today I will be arriving at the Paris Opera Populair. My mother and I are traveling from our home in the busy city of London to Paris, France. I am quite excited for I hear that Paris and its opera house are absolutely magnificent places. I, unfortunately, have also heard of the fateful disaster which took place at the opera six months ago involving the mysterious Phantom. I wonder if I shall get to introduce myself to this masked man. I certainly hope not! The fire of the opera house is the reason of mama and my traveling. Due to the most unfortunate fire, many workers and cast members were too frightened to return. One of which was Mme. Giry, the ballet instructor. I doubt she was frightened though for met her once and I found her to be a very strong woman. To think that one murderous man had caused this much trouble for so many people, including my mother, makes me furious. If I ever meet that phantom, my temper will undoubtedly flare! I forgot to include a very important turning point in my story so far. My mother is to be the opera's new ballet instructor for she was London's best. While she is teaching, I will just be there, because, to my mother's dismay I don't dance, act, or sing. I am not a total bore though. I love to write stories of distant and forgotten lands, of adventures yet to be told. Mama thinks of my writing to be improper for a young woman so I have to hide my work. This makes me feel quite wicked indeed, yet every time I start to write I feel I cannot stop. I will continue to write no matter what my mother says, yet I wish I had someone to share my art with… anyone at all.

We are to be approaching Paris soon so I must stop writing and get some much needed sleep.

Dreaming of Paris,

Lillian F.

A/N: so… whatcha think? This first chapter is in Lily's diary, the rest of the story is in third person. Lily needs a fellow writer. Hmm… maybe one with a mask. Lily is Christine's exact opposite in appearance and spirit. Will be Phantom and OC Review for lots of love, The Dreamer


	2. A Little Red Book

The Phantom's Most Lovely Rival

Disclaimer: I don't own The Phantom of the Opera… what a shame

A/N: I love reviews…of any type… (Hint hint) Any of you guys out there Draco Malfoy fans? Random I know but I'm going to be posting a Draco/OC or Draco/Luna you choose!

Ch.2

Lillian held her breath and kept high her hopes as she opened the carriage door and stepped out onto the warm streets of Paris. Her eyes widened as she saw, in all of its golden glory, The Opera Populaire. "Oh my" she sighed. This palace was going to be her new home! Lily then got lost in another one of her daydreams, this one featured her with a good book, ink and paper, and a small cozy nook that she with find within the secret spots of the opera house. She would than write about a magical world where-

"LILLIAN!" the sharp commanding voice of her mother interrupted her reverie. "How many times do I have to reprimand you about keeping your head out of the clouds?" she questioned, coming out behind the other side of the carriage. Mrs. Farrow was a tall woman with a pale elegant face and silky chestnut colored hair. Although she was not the youngest lady, Mrs. Farrow had a timeless beauty and grace that only the most excellent ballet dancer could have. Lillian, on the other hand, was rather short, with dirty blond locks that framed her face and pooled around her shoulders. She was not beautiful but Lillian was indeed very pretty, despite her height and hair that was neither brown nor golden. True, they looked very different, but others could tell that Lily was Mrs. Farrow's child by looking at their eyes. Both had eyes that were the color of a raging storm, a startling grey that either charmed or intimidated most.

Lillian felt a cold hand clasp hers as she looked up and into the gaze of her mother.

"Make me proud darling" her mother said using a tone that was much softer than the first. Together, mother and daughter made their way to the front of the opera house and opened the door.

"Ah, Mrs. and Miss. Farrow," cooed two voices simultaneously "it is quite a pleasure to have you here to help us after our rather unfortunate disaster." Down a grand staircase came two men, one very short with gray curly hair, and one rather tall and portly, both wearing obviously forced grins. That was when Lily and her mother met Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firmin, the two managers of The Paris Opera House. After rambling on about how well the building was repaired and how not to worry about the phantom, for they were sure he was dead, Unlikely_, but it helps you than think of it as so, for I will find this Phantom, _thought Lillian, the managers bid them farewell .The Phantom had destroyed a beautiful place, broke a young girl's heart, and took her away from her beloved London, and he was going to pay the price.

With a much deserved sigh, Lily plopped down onto the bed in the room her and her mother shared and opened her little blue journal. Her mother had bought her the journal before they left from Paris to encourage her to keep a diary instead of writing her stories. Lillian tried to write on the carriage but it was easier said than done. After about thirty minutes without inspiration Lily decided to go find some by exploring the beautiful building she now lived in. Soon after lacing up her boots and fixing her unruly hair, Lillian was out the door and ready to catch a phantom. Walking down the halls was like a history lesson in itself for Lillian, with architecture unlike that in London. Suddenly with a yelp of surprise Lillian went crashing to the ground with a thud. Sitting upright and rubbing her sore ankle, Lily searched for the culprit of her little accident. Ah here it is she thought, picking up a small black ribbon. With no more than a sigh, Lillian stood up straight and tied the inky ribbon in her hair, to continue her search. After walking around for awhile Lillian decided two things, one that not many people returned to the opera and two, that the fire was not as bad as proclaimed. Finding door after door of props and smelly dressing rooms, Lily finally came across a room worth looking at, The Prima Donna's dressing room. The room was dark and it smelled of dead roses and old perfume. Finding a gas lamp, Lily was able to see properly what type of room the phantom's love dressed in. Pink, it was the most disgusting shade of pink. Lily wrinkled her nose as she observed perfume bottles, costume pieces, hair pins, and a little red book. A little red book? As she knelt down on the dressing room floor and picked up the crimson velvet covered book, Lillian was overcome with curiosity and where curiosity came, danger followed.

Lily had found Christine's diary.

A/n: Will Lily's ideas about the phantom change after reading Christine's diary, Will she caught snooping, and if so by who? And where is The Phantom?

Find out and review

Your loving writer The Dreamer


	3. Chapter 3

**The Phantom's Most Lovely Rival**

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Webber and to Leroux and that 'tis a good thing, you know**

**A/N It's been awhile, I'm sorry, but I have been in a Harry Potter mood lately. Now Phantom's back and I am quite happy. Please look up on your screen. You see how many reviews this story has. It's sad, very sad…**

Chapter Three Startling Truths

He was a wreck. There were dark circles under his eyes and his dark hair was no longer slicked back, but ruffled and hanging in his eyes. His once tailored apparel was now torn and dirty. He half –heartedly climbed out of his bed, after a night without sleep, and put on the ivory colored mask that had long become part of his face. Christine had left him, Madame Giry had left him, and now he was alone. But, he refused to waste away for even though he knew he was a monster, he had a small shrinking hope that his angel might return. It was now almost half a year since they had left him and his hope was growing smaller and smaller.

Lilly

_Now this is more like it_, Lillian thought as she gingerly picked up her newfound treasure. Not wasting a moment, lily opened to the first page. Boring. Then the next, it was as uninteresting as the first. The third page however had something to say. Lily read the diary entry aloud with rapt attention.

_My diary,_

_Today my angel visited me once again. I have never seen his face but his voice, oh his voice! It is of rich velvet, soft and low. He comforts me, my angel, and teaches me how to sing. He is the greatest gift I have ever received, and now he says my time has come to perform for him. I do hope I shall please him, for I love my Angel of Music._

_Christine_

Lily's heart raced as she thought of how lucky Christine must have felt, to have an angel at her side. The more logical side of Lilly thought that it must surely only be a smitten admirer, yet some how that seemed all the better. As she continued to read, another man entered the story, a young and wealthy count. Soon the diary entries ceased to speak of the angel at all but of Raoul, her childhood sweetheart. "How foolish was Christine!" Lillian exclaimed, "I wish my angel were here!" Just then, a cold draft swept through the room, turning the pages of the diary.

_Diary, _

_My angel is the Phantom, a murderer._

_Christine_

Lillian dropped the book with a gasp, backing away from it as if it were on fire. As if on cue, the candles in the room were blown out and a certain mirror slide open.

Erik intended to keep his profile low after the fiery disaster he had plagued upon the opera house, but curiosity overcame this troubled man and he felt the urge to explore again too strong to ignore. So this is how he found himself now, trekking through his underground labyrinth to a place which held many memories, the mirror. Reaching his destination, Erik closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Even though his was certain that no one inhabited her dressing room, his memories alone could send him back to the dungeons once more. These memories would hurt him extremely so without another thought Erik turned to start his journey back to his lair. That is, until he heard the voice. Soft and sweet, a young woman's voice echoed through the corridors, saying the words he so longed to hear again, "I wish my angel were here!" Erik's broken heart felt instantly healed as he whispered her name "Christine". He had wanted and waited for their reunion for so long, that he failed to take note of some key details. His Christine was in London with that boy and the voice that had spoken sounded nothing like his angel's. Slowly opening the panel, Erik softly sang "_Come to your Angel of Music"_.

"I'd prefer to stay right here thank you." the voice said, sounding distinctly British. Erik let out a curse as he remembered, Christine was French.

Lilly

Lillian watched with bated breath as the mirror slid open. Mirrors don't do that! A low velvety soft voice echoed though out the room, asking her to come to her angel. Taking a deep breath and gathering as much courage as possible, for it was hard to resist the tempting sound of his voice, Lily sharply retorted that she would stay where she was. She knew very well who she was dealing with. Who else could it be, Father Christmas? Lillian had prepared herself for this moment ever since she and her mother had left London. Monsieur Opera Ghost was going to be taken down a notch. A flick of a gas lamp illuminated the room and Lillian came face to face with the spook himself, but it was more like hand to throat. Lilly saw a pair of dark eyes in front of her, dangerous yet intriguing like a snake. "Please sir, I'm innocent. I have not ever caused you harm" she choked out when his icy grip tightened.

"You… you called for your angel" his threateningly low voice shook with anger. His grip was too tight so she could say no more. Instead she gave him a pleading look as she said a prayer silently, wishing to go in peace and then, and then, it was gone. Air rushed into her lungs as she fell to the ground, tears threatening to fall. Lilly's vision grew blurry and the world began to spin. The last thing she saw before she blacked out was a tall handsome man with dark hair and eyes looking down on her. "My savior" she whispered losing consciousness and with a small smile allowed herself to dream.

Erik

That voice oh that voice, it annoyed him so. It wasn't her it didn't even sound like her. This voice was feminine but sharp and rich. Reaching over and lighting a lamp, Erik could now see the stranger. She stood about 5'1 and had honey colored hair that was set in many curls that framed a pretty face with full red lips and thick arched eyebrows. She was pretty, beautiful even, but she was not Christine. This thought filled him with rage as he gripped her throat, breaking her defiant stance. She pleaded with him, but he heard nothing but the beating of two racing hearts. As he gazed longer at the young woman, she began to morph into his Christine. Brown eyes blond hair, gray eyes brown hair. It was torture, this girl was not his beloved and she never would be. Words spilled from his mouth as he slowly went into madness but then he looked into her eyes. They were silvery gray, wide, and innocent. He felt disgusted with himself as he let go of his grip. He truly was a monster. He watched as she dropped to the ground, hand on her heart. She gazed up at him one last time and called him something that no one had ever called him before. She called him her savior. "Must be delirious", Erik mumbled to himself, wondering what to do with the unconscious woman. Sure he had dealt with unconscious ladies before, but this one was different. She was so small and pretty that he felt that a monster like him would damage her. Hearing footsteps approach the room Erik did the first thing he could think of; he swooped the girl into his arms and disappeared into the mirror once more.

A/N so that was it for now. I hope you enjoyed it. Please to take a peek at my profile page where you can see a picture of Lillian.


	4. Intense Introductions

**The Phantom's Most Lovely Rival**

**Disclaimer: All belongs to Webber and to Leroux and that 'tis a good thing, you know Oh and King Henry the eight for Greensleaves **

**A/N It's been awhile, I'm sorry, but I have been in a Harry Potter mood lately. Now Phantom's back and I am quite happy. Please look up on your screen. You see how many reviews this story has. It's sad, very sad…**

Chapter Four Intense Introductions

Lilly

About an hour after her encounter with the opera ghost, Lillian finally came to. Propping herself up on her elbows, Lilly saw that she was in some sort of lair. She must have been underground for she could see no light other than that of the elaborate candelabras. She was lying on a plush mat next to a bed in the shape of a swan. _That's curious_, she thought, _why lay me on a mat while I could be in that bed_. All petty thoughts as such escaped from her mind when she remembered her last memories before she lost consciousness. Her eyes widened as realization struck, if she had been kidnapped by the phantom, then he must be here! "Why, why did I have to faint like those daft ladies at school, vying for men's attention? I surely must be weak of heart" Lilly exclaimed putting her head in her hands.

"It was only the natural thing to do, mademoiselle" a voice echoed through the caverns. Lilly's head whipped around, her eyes squinting in the darkness, looking for the embodiment of the voice. "You have my apologies for the way I behaved earlier. I am afraid that I might have left a few bruises, but I mean no harm" the voice said softly.

Lillian felt her neck and winced because the skin there was tender. "You mean no harm!" she exclaimed regaining some of her usual defiance "I have done nothing to you Monsieur le Phantom, but now I wish I had, for you have caused much hardship and heartbreak in the lives of so many. Now come out and face me like a man" Lilly dared, secretly fearing that he would show himself.

"But a man I am not mademoiselle. Come with me and I shall lead you back above" and with that a gloved hand extended out of the darkness and in front of Lilly. Lillian glanced warily at the hand before firmly grasping it in her own. She nearly gasped at how cold his hand was. It was as cold as death itself. Instinctively she brushed her thumb over the back of his hand, as if that would make it any warmer. Lillian then remembered who she was dealing with and blushed bright red luckily it was too dark to see a thing but that could not cover the tense aura around the two as they made their way up to the mirror once more. But, there had to be a lake in the way, of course.

Erik

A fire burned in her eyes as she dared him to come out. He had never seen a woman with so much defiance as she. He then declared that he was indeed no man and told her to follow him. He extended his hand and she grasped it firmly, unlike the fragile gracefulness most women had. Erik was surprised at how warm her hand was, even compared to his own deadly cold hand. Then she unexpectedly brushed her thumb over the back of his hand. The motion was slow and deliberate, clearly not accidental. Erik didn't know what to think and he was glad that he was cloaked in the darkness to which he had grown more accustomed, for his eyebrows must have shot up a mile high. Coughing awkwardly he then led her towards the lake where she halted abruptly.

"No," said she yanking her hand from his grasp, "There's no chance sir that I shall be… er, riding in that boat."

Lilly

Although it was dark, Lilly could see the faint silhouette of a man, the reflections of the water on the cave's ceiling, and the shadow of a small but elegant boat. Just the sight of the water made her shudder. "Memories monsieur," she explained "they have caused me to have a fear of water"

Lilly felt ashamed to be telling her phobia to a random stranger and even worse when she remembered that he could use this against her.

"There is no other way, I'm afraid, to get back home and you surely will not being staying down here with a monster."

"Oh please monsieur," she pleaded, backing away from the boat "Oh, William, dear Willy…" she trailed off glancing with terror, at the dark depths that had taken the life of someone dear to her. Losing his patience, the phantom who stood in the flesh before her, grabbed her wrist and unsteadily dragged her into the boat, resulting in her landing with a thud on the seat below. All her fervor and fire seemed to be doused just by the slow rocking of the boat and as she drew her knees up to her chest, closed her eyes, and let out a whimper, she thought only of Willy.

"You are cruel" she spat at the man who was chuckling deeply at her discomfort. She remembered how she promised to avenge her sorrow and those of others when she arrived at the opera house, but she now felt as if she failed miserably. At least she hadn't shed a single tear. As the ghost proceeded to paddle through the dark tunnels, Lillian wondered how he could direct the boat with hardly any light. Maybe he wasn't really a man after all.

Erik

Her fear of the water was most unusual to Erik; Christine was enchanted by her trip through the tunnels on boat. _Stop comparing this little spitfire to her, _he scolded himself. He listened as she practically begged him not to take her on board. Was water all that it took to put out her fiery temper? She then cried out the name William as she stared with horror at his lake. Who was this William? The more he was around this young woman, who appeared to be but nineteen, the more curious he became and that curiosity was breaking down the walls he had, for six moths straight, begun to build. This thought sparking his temper, caused him to grip her wrist roughly without thought and to drag her clumsily into the boat. She drew her knees up to her chest and started to whimper. He chuckled darkly even though he found nothing funny about her fear. It was the first time that someone with him had ever feared something other than himself. He was a murderer, a monster! He had choked her then brought her down below, yet she was afraid of water that was only a few feet deep other than being afraid of him! One moment she seemed angry at him for reasons he did not know, the next she was trembling with fear. She was… an enigma. Erik didn't no her name or she was doing at the Opera Populaire. He knew nothing of her yet today she had seen more than anyone other than Christine, Raoul, the search party, and the Giry's had ever seen. And yet, she somehow knew of his legend. Gossip sure did spread fast. Lost in his thoughts, Erik almost failed to notice that the girl behind him had begun to sing.

_Alas, my love, you do me wrong,  
To cast me off discourteously.  
For I have loved you well and long,  
Delighting in your company_

She was singing Greensleaves, Erik noted. Her voice was rich and slow as she dipped into each note with grace. Quite unlike Christine's, which was sweet and high like the chirping of birds. Glancing behind him, Erik saw the girl, her eyes still closed, rocking slightly, and her red lips barely moving as she formed the quiet notes. A promising voice was like a light, Erik being the moth and the desire to train this talent was to strong. As she continued to sing, Erik closed his eyes and rowed the boat to the rhythm of her song. 

"Mademoiselle, have you ever considered the stage of Paris as your working place?" he asked, trying his best to hide his true intentions.

Erik's life was taking as many turns as the very tunnels in which he lived.

A/N: sooooo whatcha think? Will Lilly accept singing lessons? Will she stay true to her hate? Na! Oh and who is Willy? Why does Lilly fear water? Gimme your guesses and the reviewer who gets one right shall receive the invisible badge of honor! Yay! Review and read my other stories please! With love the dreamer!


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